Cowgirl, Unexpectedly by Vicki Tharp

Author:Vicki Tharp
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Back at the cabin, the front door snapped closed behind us as I collapsed against it. My bed, a few steps away, a mighty oasis in my desert of exhaustion. I stared at it. It might as well have been a mirage on the far side of the Sahara because I couldn’t take one more step.

It had to be getting close to midnight. Jenna ended up trailering Angel to a friend’s house where she’d be spending the night after a little post-rodeo bonfire the local kids were throwing. Quinn went with her. Which accounted for the scowl marring Hank’s face as he headed to the coffee maker to prep it for the morning.

My head fell back against the door with a whispered thunk and my eyes drifted closed on their own accord. The friction between the leather soles of my boots and the roughhewn wood floor kept me from sliding to the ground.

Hank clunked and clattered about in the small kitchen. Somehow, even the scooping of ground coffee sounded loud and grating as he stewed in his agitation.

“It’ll be okay,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t think Quinn can talk her into doing anything she doesn’t want to do. She’s pretty level-headed.”

Hank merely grunted. My eyelids would need a chain hoist to open them and judge his expression, so I didn’t try. “Besides,” I continued, my voice sounding slow and garbled like an old forty-five record set at the wrong speed, “they’re with a group of friends.”

I must have dozed for a second, because the next thing I knew, Hank’s lips brushed across mine. If my synapses hadn’t been too exhausted to fire, I would have been startled. His hands came to rest on my hips and he nibbled on my earlobe. A few hours post shave, I could already feel the faint scrape of his new stubble against my neck, and why I found that so arousing I’d never understand, but I did. Even through my exhaustion, a slow burn developed deep within.

“You ever let that stop you?” he asked as he kissed his way down my neck, along the ridge of my collarbone, until his tongue dipped into the groove at the base of my neck. Frustration edged his touch, not aggressive and not as if he were taking his mood out on me, but not tender either, as if he didn’t fear sharing his turmoil with me, that he knew I’d shoulder the weight of it with him. That he trusted me with that was a bear hug to my heart.

“At that age, when hormones were running hot. Did ya ever let a level head, or a pack of friends, stop you, Army?”

I blew out a huff of laughter as I guided his lips back to mine. Even at my age now, with the rolling boil of hormones brewing in my veins, if the Talbots hadn’t interrupted us beneath the stands, the fact that hundreds of people sat above our heads probably wouldn’t have stopped me, so I got Hank’s point.

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